Faberrittana
by illmakeitjustwatch
Summary: Mix of Faberrittana one-shots. Stories are co-written between sweetlilaud and myself. See first chapter for currently included stories.
1. Table of Contents

As the description said, this will be a mixture of faberrittana one-shots. Stories will contain Rachel, Quinn, Santana, and Brittany in any combination. Any ideas, please feel free to let us know.

**Table of Contents**

1. _Sick_- Established Pezberry. Santana gets the stomach flu, leaving Rachel to take care of her.

2. _Puppy_- Established Brittana. Brittany and Santana get a puppy. Much to Santana's displeasure.

3. Brittberry- Currently being written


	2. Sick

**Sick**

The first thing Rachel noticed when she awoke at 4am was the missing arms of her girlfriend wrapped around her. Yes, badass Santana Lopez was a cuddler. The second thing she noticed, well, rather heard, was coughing as it echoed out of the bathroom behind her.

Pushing herself out of the bed, Rachel made her way to the cracked bathroom door where she gently knocked "Santana?" before pushing the door open. Her heart broke in that instant as she watch Santana dive head first into the toilet bowl as she struggled to hold her hair back with shaking hands.

"Oh, baby," Rachel cooed as she knelt down beside Santana as she grabbed her hair and pulled it into a bun before starting to rub circles on her taunt back. "Let it out baby. It's okay."

"How is this okay?" Santana snapped before heaving again.

Rachel sighed and stood up. She found a fresh wash cloth in the cabinet and ran it under the cold tap.

Santana shivered when the rag was placed on the back of her neck and the cold droplets rolled down her back, soaking her tank in the process.

* * *

It was another five minutes of heaving and coughing before Santana finally managed to stop. She reached up to flush the toilet before falling back onto Rachel who was knelt behind her.

Rachel brushed back a few pieces of sweaty hair from Santana's face before using the cloth still clutched in her hand to wipe off Santana's face and neck before wiping around her mouth. She gently kissed the mop of brunette hair pressed against her chest, noticing that Santana was rather warm in the process.

Rachel managed to grab the thermometer out of the drawer while still keeping Santana upright. "Open up, baby. Lets see how bad it is."

Santana let out a groan in protest, but complied.

"101.6. You're definitely sick."

"No shit."

"Come on, sweetie. Lets rinse your mouth out and lay back down," Rachel softly spoke as she helped Santana sit up before standing and helping the still shaking girl to her feet.

* * *

When Santana's mouth was once again fresh and she had a sip of water, Rachel carefully pulled off the girl's tank and tossed it into the hamper before leading Santana to sit on the bed.

* * *

By the time she had found a clean shirt and turned around, Santana was already laying on the bed curled into a ball and clutching her stomach.

"San, come on sweetie, let me get a shirt on you so you don't freeze."

"I don't wanna move."

"San-"

"No. Please. It hurts too much. Just let me lay here. Can you lay with me?"

"Of course I will." With the shirt now forgotten, Rachel climbed back into her spot as Santana shuffled around to curl herself into Rachel's warm body, her head resting on her chest listening to the soothing heart hummed quietly as she ran her hand over Santana's damp back, causing the girl to quickly slip back into sleep and Rachel drifted soon after.

* * *

One half hour of sleep was all Santana managed before she was up and running to the bathroom again with Rachel trailing close behind her.

"Please kill me already," Santana groaned.

"I will do no such thing, Santana. You probably simply have a stomach virus that will pass within 24-48 hours." Rachel took her place behind Santana, rubbing circles on her back.

"It was probably that vegan shit you made me eat!" Santana managed to screech out before heaving for what felt like the 100th time.

"If it was, I would be sick as well. We ate the same thing."

"Bullshit! You're trying to kill me!"

"Santana Lopez! I did no such thing! I would never feed you something that could put your health in danger. I'm appalled that you with think so little of me."

"Rachel, shut up! Turn off the monologue shit. It's too early and I'm too sick to translate your crazy."

Rachel huffed in response, but immediately started to feel guilty when Santana let out a sob before vomiting again. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry." Rachel found the previously discarded rag, freshened it up, and rubbed it over the naked and shaking tan back in front of her.

"That's fucking cold!" Santana yelled as best as she could, which was actually a puny screech.

"Well I'm sorry, but you're burning up and I need to cool you down somehow. I could just throw you into the bathtub if you'd prefer."

"Cloth is good."

"Thought so."

* * *

A few hours later found Santana laying on the large couch in the Berry living room. Her retching had finally seemed to subside after a few rounds of dry heaves that left her begging for death. Again.

Rachel has also managed to convince Santana that clothing was not out to kill her and that she really should not be walking around the house without a top on.

"Come on San, you need to try to eat and drink something."

"So I can just puke it up again? I don't think so," Santana whined.

"It's just Gatorade and plain toast. You need the Gatorade to rehydrate and the toast will help settle your stomach and get a little bit of food in it."

"Rach, please no. I can't."

"Yes you can, now sit up."

Santana just looked at Rachel with a pout, causing the shorter girl to roll her eyes.

"You are such a whiny sick person."

"But I feel like I'm dying. This has to be what death feels like."

"I think I made my point. Now, up you go." Rachel managed to sit Santana up enough to crawl in behind her, pulling the girl flush against her. "Come on, sweetie, take a few sips," Rachel cooed while holding the straw up to the dry, cracked lips.

Santana whimpered but took a few small sips before pushing the cup away. "That's enough."

"Not even kind of. Toast is next."

* * *

It took Rachel nearly 45 minutes to get Santana to eat a single piece of toast and drink the glass of Gatorade. After swiping some chapstick across Santana's sleeping pout, she made her way to the kitchen to wash up and check her vibrating phone.

From Quinn: Hey Rach, you and S want to do something today? B and I are bored.

From Rachel: I'm sorry, Quinn, but seeing how Santana is sick, I'm going to have to decline for both of us.

From Quinn: Well, that sucks. Sorry you have to deal with sick Santana. She's a nightmare.

From Rachel: Actually, she's not being that bad. Just a little bit of whining and pouting.

From Quinn: Are we talking about the same Santana? Usually when S is sick, "Snix" is out in full force. Even B tries to avoid her.

From Rachel: Yes, I'm pretty sure we have the same Santana. "Snix" has not made an appearance once so far.

From Quinn: Well, I wish you luck with that. We're at my place if you need to escape from her!

"Rachel! I really do think I'm dying," Santana managed to groan from the living room.

Rachel sighed and made her way back to her girlfriend. Her very whiny girlfriend. Her girlfriend that she would almost prefer turning into "Snix" at this point.

* * *

"For the love of all things. Santana, you are not dying."

"I am. You just don't understand what I'm going through."

"I've had the stomach flu. I know what you're going through"

Santana pouted for a few seconds before the pout slowly slipped off her face and she became pale.

Rachel only reached for the bucket by the couch and held it as Santana leaned over it, displacing the small amount of stomach contents she had.

* * *

Rachel had gotten Santana freshened up and found her fever had risen to 102.3.

After getting her settled back onto the couch for what she hoped was a longer nap, Rachel decided that a pot of soup would be the perfect thing for Santana when she woke back up.

Maybe it would actually stay down this time.

* * *

Deciding that matzo ball soup sounded good, with a little modification of course. The soup was going to be vegan, whether Santana approved or not. She wasn't going to slave over the stove for something she couldn't eat.

* * *

It took her a little over an hour and a half to have the soup prepared perfectly to her liking.

Knowing that she would more than likely be feeding Santana, she scooped herself a bowl and sat at the kitchen bar eating her fair share before making another bowl and filling a glass with more Gatorade.

* * *

Santana was still asleep on the couch, which Rachel was glad for considering she had slept for about two hours without issue.

Taking that as a good sign, Rachel sat the tray on the coffee table and sat next to Santana's chest on the couch. She leaned over and kissed Santana's forehead, which was still too warm in her opinion "San, wake up sweetie. I made soup and I have more Gatorade. You really need to get something in your stomach and you really need fluids. I don't want to have to take you to the hospital because you're dehydrated." Rachel continued to gently stroke Santana's cheek as she coaxed her awake.

"Don't want food. Wanna sleep."

"I know you do, baby, and I'm sorry. But, you really need to wake up for me."

Santana pouted as she squinted her eyes against the light of the room as her brows furrowed.

"That a girl. Now how about we sit you up a little bit? Nice and easy now."

Once she got Santana sitting upright against the arm of the couch, propped up by pillows with a towel draped over her chest, and settled onto the couch with the bowl of soup in her hands. She had thought ahead and made the matzo balls on the smaller side so they would be easier for Santana to eat.

"I'm not a baby. I don't need the bib," Santana pouted and picked at the towel.

"I know you're not. It's just in case I spill some. I don't want to have to make you change clothes again. Now, open up."

Rachel took a spoon full of soup containing some broth and part of a ball and held it to Santana's mouth.

Santana didn't budge.

"Come on, San, open up for the train."

"I don't-" Santana was cut off when Rachel shoved the spoon in her mouth, effectively shutting her up. Having no choice, Santana chewed and swallowed down the bite.

"Actually, that's really good. More?"

"More what?"

"More please?"

"That's better. Here you go baby."

* * *

It took a little bit of time, but eventually Santana had eaten the entire bowl and drank the glass of Gatorade.

"Can I have more?"

"Sorry, but that's probably not a good idea. Lets see how this settles first before we add more. I don't want you to get sick because you ate too much. How about we watch a movie and see how you feel afterwards. Sound good?"

"Yea, I guess you're right. No musicals."

"I wasn't planning on it." Rachel flicked on the television and climbed over Santana so she was against the back of the couch. She didn't want Santana leaning over her if she ended up getting sick again.

* * *

Rachel woke up when she became uncomfortably hot. She must have fallen asleep during the movie, and judging from the deep breaths from Santana, who had her pinned between herself and the back of the couch, was asleep as well. It was then Rachel realized that she was damp with sweat and that Santana didn't feel quit so warm against her.

Rolling over, she couldn't help but smile at Santana's peacefully relaxed face as she slept. Along with the beads of sweat on her forehead and rolling down her neck.

"San, come on baby. Wake up for me." Rachel cupped Santana's cheek, finding her to be much cooler to the touch. "Let's get you into a cool bath."

"I don't wanna. I wanna cuddle. No bath."

"I'm sorry, I know you want to. But your fever is breaking and you're soaking wet with sweat. Not to mention I'm a little damp as well from you."

"Wanky."

"There's my girl. Come on, up you go."

"Fine. But only if you wash me."

Rachel playfully rolled her eyes "If I must."

* * *

"Rachel! This water is fucking freezing!" Santana squealed when Rachel got her settled into the tub.

"It is not. It's only a little bit cool. It just feels cold because your temperature is still 100 degrees. Your fever is breaking and this cool bath should hopefully help it the rest of the way. Now stop being such a baby and let me wash you up."

"Well hurry it up. I think my nips could cut glass I'm so damn cold."

Rachel didn't bother to stop her eyes from roaming downwards to stare at Santana's chest. "Yea, you probably could cut glass with those," Rachel mumbled under her breath as she licked her lips.

"Not that I'm complaining that you're ogling me like a piece of meat, because let's face it, I'm hot and who wouldn't want a piece of this, but could you maybe drool when I'm not sitting in a tub of fucking freezing water?"

"Right, sorry." Yep, Rachel Berry was definitely a boob girl.

"Alright, San put your head back for me," Rachel coaxed Santana to lean back a little before using the large plastic cup on the tub ledge to start wetting down the tangled mess that was Santana's hair.

Rachel grabbed her strawberry smelling shampoo that she knew Santana was basically in love with, and began massaging it into her scalp, working up a nice lather.

Santana let out a few moans and groans followed by a "holy fuck that feels really fucking good" as Rachel continued to massage and sooth her head.

Once the shampoo was rinsed and Rachel had coated Santana's hair in conditioner, clipping it to her head to sit, she found her raspberry body wash and started to lather up the bath puff. She started with Santana's back, making sure to scrub off all traces of sweat. Her arms came next before moving to her stomach and up to her chest. Where Rachel made sure to clean every little bit of the area. Very thoroughly. And then once more for good measure.

"Rachel, my boobs are clean," Santana huffed.

"I'm just making sure," Rachel replied back before motioning for Santana to lift her leg out of the water, then the other.

When she decided Santana was clean enough, she pulled the plug, letting the tub drain as she stood to unhook the shower head and turn on some slightly warmer water.

She tilted Santana's head back, and the girl immediately closed her eyes as Rachel began to rinse out the conditioner as she ran her fingers through the long, now not so tangled, brunette locks, before rinsing off the rest of the remainder of the body wash.

"Alright, next step for the sick one. Out of the tub for some pajamas and a massage."

* * *

Rachel applied lotion to every inch of Santana's body before helping her into a pair of clean pajama bottoms and instructing her to lay on her belly on the bed.

While she got comfortable, Rachel quickly switched herself into some clean clothing, since hers were still damp from Santana's sweating and now the bath.

Settling herself onto Santana's butt, Rachel placed her hands on Santana's neck and began to massage the tension away. "Is this hurting your stomach?"

"Nope. Not at all. You're a light weight."

Rachel rolled her eyes before moving her hands down to Santana's shoulders and kneading the tight muscles she found there. "You're really tense, San." Rachel started to work her thumbs deeper, trying to loosen up more of the muscles.

"It's from Cheerios. And all the puking probably didn't help."

"Obviously. That woman is seriously evil."

"Eh, she is but it's not that bad once you get used to it."

"If you say so."

"I do. Where did you learn how to do this? This feels fucking fantastic."

"I'm not really sure. Probably from practice because Daddy makes me massage his shoulders sometimes. I guess I just taught myself based on how he reacted."

"Well, if Broadway doesn't work out, I'm sure you can use this as a back up because seriously, your hands are like fucking magic." Santana followed up her statement with a few loud moans as she felt the tension start to leave her body as Rachel continued to work over her back.

"Alright baby, I think that's enough for now. I don't want you on you stomach too long. I can always massage you more tomorrow if you want me to."

"Oh I want you to. Trust me."

"We'll see how you feel then first." Rachel helped Santana to sit up and slipped the t-shirt over her head, working her arms through, before taking her spot on the bed and laying down.

"I love you, Rach. Thanks for taking care of me."

"I love you too, San. Lets get some sleep." Rachel kissed Santana's forehead before pulling the girl close, letting her curl into her body."

* * *

The next morning, Santana woke up feeling back to normal.

"Come on Rach, It's 10, time to get up! I wants to get my eats on."

"I take it that means you feel better."

"I feel great."

"Oh thank goodness. I don't know if I could take another day of you being sick and acting like a baby."

"Oh please, I'm Santana Lopez. I'm a badass. No stomach virus will bring me down and make a wimp out of me."

Rachel wouldn't have been able to stop the eye roll and facepalm even if she would have tried.

* * *

Two days later, around 3am, Santana awoke to groans from the bathroom. Making her way in, she found Rachel leaning over the toilet gagging.

"I hate you," Rachel groaned.

Santana followed Rachel's previous actions and pulled the long hair back before finding a cool wash cloth for Rachel's neck. "I know baby. I know."

* * *

**A/N: As promised, I have to mention that quite a bit of this was taken from when sweetlilaud was sick this past week. So send her some love for the inspiration for this.**


	3. Puppy

**Puppy**

"Please."

"No."

"B-but ple-"

"NO Britt!"

"Pleeeease San!"

_Oh shit, not the pout. Seriously, how the hell did I even end up in this situation? Oh wait, I know how- because I'm a slave to the every urge and desire of one Ms. Brittany S. Pierce. I looked back at Brittany's pouty expression as she held...IT up toward my face._

"But San, c'mon, how can you say no to this face?," Brittany asked me as she continued to persuade me.

"Brittany, we don't need a dog," I tried to reason with her. "We just got our apartment settled and there's no way we can even afford to keep this little thing!"

"Santana, she's not a THING! She's a baby!" Brittany scrunched up her face as she chastised me and quickly pulled the tiny thing closer to her. I rolled my eyes.

_Ok, so here's the deal. For the record, I didn't even WANT to come into this place. However, on our way home from Rachel and Quinn's apartment I heard Brittany let out the biggest gasp of all time as she grabbed my arms off the steering wheel screaming "PUPPIES!". I looked in the direction of her spazz attack to see an animal shelter on the other side of the road. _

And now here we are, looking at countless baby animals until Brittany practically swooned and took off running towards what felt like the billionth cage. She ran back to me holding what looked like a golden brown and white fluffy fox. According to the woman that worked there, who Brittany had been dragging around to help her hold animals as if this were a shoe store and she was trying on heels for a party, this little rat was a Shetland Sheepdog. Needless to say, I was not amused. I looked down as the dog (if you could call it that)...hobbled around, for lack of a better word."

"Britt, this thing can't even walk straight," I said. I watched as the dog refused to put any pressure on its back left leg and limped around on its three good legs.

"I know, that's why we have to take her," Brittany explained to me with an eye roll, as if I should have already known that. I was getting frustrated with this entire situation. Snix may or may not have taken over for a quick second.

"NO ONE WANTS A BROKEN DOG, B!" Ok, maybe that was a bit harsh but I just REALLY don't want a dog.

I instantly regretted the outburst as Brittany scooped up the dog and gave me "the look". Tears were swimming in her baby blues, her nose turned red, and her lower lip trembled.

"Just because she needs a little help some times doesn't mean she's worthless..." Brittany cradled the dog and the little thing nuzzled under her neck, making tiny whining noises.

I looked at my girlfriend's now tear-stained face with what I'm sure was the guiltiest look on the planet. "...What's her name, baby?"

"...Why do you care?" Brittany scratched right along the little brown dog's snout, just along the tiny patch of white on the brown snout. The puppy instantly closed her eyes and fell asleep in her arms. _(Alright, that was a little cute.)_

"Because...I just wanna know," I didn't want to give myself away that quickly.

"Rachel."

"What?"

"The lady said her name is Rachel. It's a perfect name for her. She's so tiny, just like Rachel," Brittany said.

I shook my head. "Why does Rachel walk like that?"

"Apparently she was brought to the shelter like this. The people who brought her in found her walking like that outside their house. Her knee is really messed up or something so she just walks funny. But she's fine otherwise!"

I could hear her trying to persuade me. I sighed as I made my way over to the little dog. I held my hand out toward her snout as she leaned over to sniff it. Brittany made no attempt to hold back the cheshire grin that had spread across her face. I'm pretty sure she knew she had won. The puppy sniffed my hand slightly, then turned her head to snuggle back under Brittany's neck. Well...anything that loves my Brittany as much as that can't be all bad, can it?

"Alright," I looked at Brittany's expectant expression. "Looks like we'll have to stop at the pet store on the way home." I barely registered anything after Brittany squealed in delight and pulled me into an earth shattering kiss. Though I did manage to hear a quickly whispered "I love you, baby" as we made our way back to the front of the shelter to fill out paperwork.

* * *

And that's how I ended up here. With a three pound ball of fluff literally tearing the shit out of my brand new apartment. It didn't even matter that Brittany had practically bought out the entirety of Petsmart's toy section for the runt.

After MUCH persuading on my part, we affectionately named the dog Midget because ain't NO way I'm naming my dog after little Ms. Gay-for-Fabray. Plus, even though the damn thing was almost 4 and a half months old, she was still only three pounds! You wouldn't think that such a little thing could cause so much damage to my beautiful (not to mention expensive) Prada shoes but, OH NO, you'd be dead wrong. And where, oh where, is my loving girlfriend while I pull my new D&G handbag from the damn gerbil's mouth? Gallivanting around the city with that pressed lemon Quinn looking for a wedding dress for Fabray's upcoming permanent hip attachment ceremony to the hobbit.

I've had just about enough, so I ran to my (now slobber covered) handbag and pulled out my phone. I heard tiny little growls as I looked down to find Midget attempting to rip apart the slippers I'm wearing. Yep, I'm done. I dial Brittany's number. And...five phone calls later, Brittany finally picks up with a distracted hello.

"Brittany Susan Pierce, get your well-toned ass back to this GOD DAMN apartment! Your horrible TERROR of a dog is tearing my beautiful house apart bit by bit!" I screamed into the phone.

"Santana, I'm a little busy at the moment. Quinn really can't decide on a dress. I mean, I keep telling her that she'd look really hot in this pink one but she wants this other white one and there's been so many dresses that I'm confused now. Which one would look better on her, San?"

I'm almost positive she was holding up dresses toward the phone, trying to get me to see them. I couldn't help but giggle at her innocence. "Baby, I can't see them through the phone," I explain.

"Oh, sorry! Look, just try and get along with Midget. I'm sure she's just tearing stuff apart because she knows you don't like her," Brittany said.

I could tell she's really distracted as I hear Quinn asking her opinion on what I'm sure was probably the fifteenth dress.

"Listen San, I really gotta go. I love you babe!"

And with that, my girlfriend hung up the phone. I looked down to see Midget looking up at me, ears perked and her head turned to one side. Oh, so you're sizing me up now, huh Midget? I reached my hand out to pet her. "Come here, you sad excuse for a dog," I cooed as nicely as I could.

Obviously, Midget didn't buy it and went scurrying into our bedroom. I sighed as I made my way over to the couch. Maybe some television will calm me down.

* * *

I sat there on our extremely comfortable leather couch, minding my own business as I laughed at John Stewart when I heard small feet scuttling across my cherry hardwood floors. I sighed as I attempted to ignore...whatever that little munchkin is doing. That is, until I looked down to see perky brown ears and big, curious brown eyes. I looked back at the tv...until I heard tiny whines.

'Nope. She's just trying to trick me again. Probably trying to win me over after whatever her latest shoe conquest was from my closet.' I turn up the volume as Steven Colbert comes on.

The little whines got louder and soon, small scratches on the side of my (expensive leather) sofa accompanied it.

'Stand your ground Santana. Ain't now way that shedding ball of hair is getting on your new couch.'

All of a sudden, Midget did something I've never heard her do. She barked! Well, it's more like someone stepping on a rubber duck but I had to assume it was a bark. I finally made eye contact with her and she squeaked again.

"FINE!" I yell as I scoop her up onto my beautiful couch that Britt and I had acquired at an auction in Soho. God, I love this couch.

I put her on the farthest end of the couch and turned my attention back to the television.

All of a sudden, I felt the couch dip a little bit.

Midget scooted a little closer to me and laid her head on her front paws.

She wouldn't look at me directly, but I could tell she was a little lonely. Brittany had been gone all day with Quinn and normally she and Midget were attached at the hip. Whenever Brittany would leave for too long, the poor little thing would always get depressed. Sometimes she wouldn't even eat her food.

Hmmm...food.

I got up from the couch for a minute (attempting not to notice as Midget's ears fell as she watched me walk away) and went to make myself a quick sandwich in the kitchen.

Brittany and I lived across from an AMAZING deli in Chelsea and I would be damned if I wasn't going to take advantage of that.

I made myself a salami and cheese sandwich on vegan Italian bread (what, the hobbit can bake, alright!) and sat back down next to an obviously happier Midget.

"Don't even think about it, Midge, this is Mama Santana's!" Brittany made us refer to ourselves as 'Mama Santana' and 'Mommy Brittany' when we were talking about ourselves in front of the dog. Is there anything I won't do for this girl?

Midget's ears fell again as she held her head down and moved closer to me again. She sniffed my hands as I reached for my sandwich.

"Midget, no!" I continued eating my sandwich as Midget shrunk back a bit.

I could barely finish three-fourths of it before I was full.

Midget had given up on taking my food and was quietly laying next to me.

I placed my food on the coffee table and turned back toward the tv. I was content to continue ignoring her...if the damn thing didn't start nuzzling my leg.

I looked down to see brown, hopeful eyes. I slowly reached out my hand to pet her between the ears. She leaned her head up to sniff my fingers and then lowered her head back down to be pet.

I never noticed how soft she is.

"Awww...you're just a little baby, aren't you?"

No, I haven't gone soft. You try saying no to that little face.

Midget let out the tiny little whimpers of comfort I'd only previously heard her let out for Brittany.

I took that as my opportunity to be bold. I scooped Midget up, with only a few wiggles of protest, and laid her on my lap. I just wanted to see what she'd do. I half expected her to wiggle away like she always does.

This time, she snuggled up into herself and kneaded my legs with her front paws like a cat as she got comfortable. Wow, she must really miss Brittany if she's letting me do this.

I started scratching her on her little head as she cozied up into me.

An idea came to me as I looked at the coffee table to see my half eaten sandwich. I grabbed what was left over of my sandwich as Midget just looked back at the tv in front of us. I was surprised that she wasn't even stalking me for my sandwich anymore. Maybe she just wanted attention earlier, and not my sandwich.

"Alright, here ya go," I said as I started pulling off small pieces of cheese and held them in front of Midget, who sniffed them warily before licking them from my hands. She didn't even take it greedily. She more so just licked them softly until they somehow ended up in her mouth. I giggled when she inhaled a piece of salami a little too quickly and chewed it while looking up at me with those Bambi brown eyes of hers.

"You like that, Midge?" I scratched her behind the ears as she closed her eyes and kept chewing. "You're just a little tiny puppy. You like cheese just like Mama S?"

The puppy leaned forward in an attempt to get my to scratch her little special spot on her snout.

I obliged willingly, and she fell asleep a few minutes later.

I laid my head back on the soft cushions of my couch, changed the channel to what was most likely Food Network and joined the tiny fluff ball as we both took a well deserved nap.

I was awakened by small squeals of delight and loud clapping.

"WHAT! WHAT HAPPENED?! WHAT?!" I scrambled up from the couch to see my beautiful dancer cheering for...god knows what!

"Baby, you're bonding! You guys look so cute together," Brittany said while bouncing in the middle of the living room. "I knew you guys would get along eventually."

"What are you-," I looked down to see Midget, head cocked to the side and ears perked, clearly happy to see her Mommy B but still cradled in my arms on the couch. I put my finger between her ears and scratched and she nuzzled into my neck and let out a content little huff. "Yeah, she's not so bad once you get used to her."

Brittany quickly threw herself behind me on the couch and cradled both of us in her arms, her head resting on my shoulder. I leaned behind me to press a small kiss to her cheek.

"Hey B, did you know this little fluff ball likes cheese?" I asked.

"San, you can't spoil her or she won't eat her food," Brittany chastised softly.

"Yeah but...how can you say no to that little face?" I raised Midget's sleeping face a few inches towards Brittany and stuck out my lower lip for good measure.

Brittany sighed, rolled her eyes, and laid a small kiss on lips and on Midget's fluffy head as all three of us snuggled back on the couch to watch whatever Disney movie I knew Brittany was about to put on our television.

* * *

Hello my fellow fanfiction lovers! Sweetlilaud here and this is my first ever story here on ! Thanks again to Illmakeitjustwatch for the help in writing this. And for the push off my lazy ass to actually write something. So, FUN FACT! The little puppy in this story actually exists! The inspiration for Midget is none other than my dog, Rachel! The little dog in the picture for this story is actually her. Isn't she precious?! Yes, she is named after little Ms. Gay-for-Fabray Rachel Barbra Berry. And yes, she really does have a limp in her back left leg. No one knows how it happened. I just couldn't pass up a chance to write something with Brittana and my little baby. Especially when the Brittana fandom has taken such a hit lately. I would know since I ended up in the hospital the day after the break-up episode and I swear to this day that it was because of my Brittana feels. Anyways, thanks for reading and I think the usual drill is to request reviews and comments and what-not.


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